


I kinda sorta got stabbed.

by peter_parkr



Series: you're alright, kid. [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Irondad, Irondad & Spiderson, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Tony Stark, Stabbing, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peter_parkr/pseuds/peter_parkr
Summary: This left Peter alone in a dark alley of Queens past midnight on a school night with a severe stab wound bleeding freely into his cupped hand. He stumbled backward and landed on his ass, leaning against a dumpster."Fucking idiot" Peter mumbled. Guy could’ve walked away with spider-man’s identity but instead he got $12 and an empty Dunkin’ Donuts gift card.---Or: Peter gets stabbed in a fight and refuses to call Tony but ends up bleeding on his doorstep anyways.





	I kinda sorta got stabbed.

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT #1: Stabbed  
> Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, swearing
> 
> hello!! i decided to write a whumptober irondad series since I'm still in denial after Infinity War. this is obviously super late but I'm hoping to do most of the prompts at some point before the new year!! Enjoy and please leave a comment :-)

Peter had been having a really good Tuesday.

He woke up on time to have breakfast and take out the garbage for May. His history quiz went pretty well, and he made decent progress on a mechanics project. He somehow avoided getting harassed by Flash all day, then MJ actually shot him a genuine smile at decathlon practice. He got to pet 2 dogs on his way home from school. And, best of all, Ned finally finished the new _Zelda: Breath of the Wild_ game - which meant Peter could start playing it on Ned’s Wii tonight.

So yeah, Peter had been having a pretty good Tuesday. Until about 11:30 that night.

Rewind. After school, Peter spent the evening at Ned’s place. Ned’s parents were out for dinner so the boys did their usual: ordered pizza and watched Peter play video games for way too many hours. Eventually Peter decided he should probably head home; even if May was working a night shift, he wanted to get some mods done on his web shooters before going to bed.

He wasn’t planning on patrolling, but Peter decided to swing home in his suit to save himself the bus fare. He loved the freeing feeling of flying through the air over his city and took every chance he got. So after climbing out of Ned’s bedroom window (his best friend will never stop being amazed every time he does a 'spidey-thing'), Peter swung off into the crisp October sky with his backpack and a head full of formulas.

“What’s up, Karen?”

“Hi Peter. This is a surprise. You don’t usually patrol on Tuesdays?”

“Yeah, just swinging home from Ned’s. Hey guess what, I killed my first guardian in Zelda tonight!”

“Congratulations, Peter. Or as Princess Zelda would say - well done Brave Link, Hero of Hyrule!”

Peter chuckled. “You’re pretty funny for a nerd, Karen.”

“I try my best. Would you like me to map your fastest route home tonight?”

“That’s alright Karen, I know the way.”

Of course, what was supposed to be a quiet commute home turned into something much more complicated. While swinging high up between apartments and office buildings, Peter noticed some scuffling far below in a small alley between two buildings. He swung and perched on a lower building to get a better look at the scene. He saw two men, one on the younger side, with their fists raised in a fight. Normally Peter wouldn’t bother getting involved in a simple fist fight, but one of these guys was about 2 times bigger than the other and was clearly winning the fight. Helping the little guy is pretty much spider-man’s thing - so Peter prepared to swing in and save the day.

“I’m going in, Karen!” Peter whispered before shooting a web and swinging down full speed towards the fight.

“Hey there, big guy! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Or, like, no one. That works too.”

Both men whipped around at the sound of Peter’s voice - but they were too slow. Peter was already using the force of his swing to take down the bigger man, who fell to the ground with an indignant cry as Peter landed gracefully on his feet, arm extended and ready to web the bad guy up.

“What the fuck is your problem man! That little punk is trying to  _rob_  me!”

“Woahwoahwoahwoahwoah. Hold on. What -” Peter glanced over at the smaller guy, whose bloody nose peeked out from underneath a dark hood. Just as Peter began to realize his mistake, he felt a fist collide harshly with his face. The surprise set him off balance as another punch hooked him hard on the cheek. Before Peter could even catch his breath he was struck still by a sudden searing, excruciating pain in his abdomen.

“ _Motherfuck_  - ”

Did this guy just  _stab_  him?

“Peter, I regret to inform you that you have been stabbed in the lower right abdomen.”

“Yeah, thanks Karen, I kinda realized -  _fuck_ ”

Doubled over his injury, Peter fought hard against the tears of pain burning his throat. He had been stabbed before, but never this deep, and it hurt like a bitch.

“What the hell man! I thought I was  _helping_  you!” Peter choked out as the little shit lunged towards the man on the ground, clutching a large knife dripping with Peter’s own blood. The bigger man chucked his wallet at the stabber, scrambled to his feet and ran off into the streets. Probably a good call.

“You did help me. Thanks, Spider-man!” As a parting gift. the mugger slashed open Peter’s backpack and fished out his wallet. He grabbed all the cash inside before tossing the wallet to the ground and sprinting out of the alley into the night. Peter tried to shoot a web to trap him as he escaped, but he was weakened and this guy was fast and nimble.

That left Peter alone in a dark alley of Queens, past midnight on a school night, with a severe stab wound bleeding freely into his cupped hand. He stumbled backward and landed on his ass, leaning against a dumpster for support.

 _Fucking idiot_. Peter mumbled. Guy could’ve walked away with spider-man’s identity but instead he got $12 and an empty Dunkin’ Donuts gift card.

Hissing in pain, Peter moved his hand to inspect the wound. His heart started beating faster as he examined the damage.

“Karen, what do I do?! This is so gross!”

“Peter, please try to remain calm. You are experiencing blood loss at a rate beyond what your healing factor can handle. I suggest you apply pressure to the wound and seek medical help immediately.”

 _Shit. So much for my homework_. Peter’s head was starting to get woozy from the pain and blood loss. He had to stem the bleeding before this got out of hand. Bracing himself, Peter shot a fresh web over the wound as gently as possible. After the initial burn of impact, the soft web soothed his pain a little and the pressure was definitely slowing the bleeding for now.

“Peter, should I call Mr. Stark?”

“What the - No, Karen, are you crazy?! Do NOT call Mr. Stark.” The last thing Peter wanted right now was for Tony Stark to be forced to leave his important work to come save the useless Spider-man from a little stab wound - gifted by a normal mugger, no less. No alien tech this time - just plain old Peter Parker stupidity.

“Alright, Peter. But you are in need of immediate assistance. Your only other options are to call Aunt May or an ambulance.”

“Those are  _not_  good options Karen!” Peter exclaimed between ragged breaths. “My secret identity is secret for a reason!”

“There is nothing else to be done. If you fall unconscious or your injury worsens, I will be required to alert Mr. Stark as defined by the  _Protect Parker Against Himself_  protocol. I approximate 20 minutes until you black out from blood loss.”

Peter let out a huff at the protocol name, then immediately regretted it as the pain in his stomach lurched and bile rose up his throat. Mr. Stark sure thought he was hilarious.

While Peter definitely didn’t want to bother Mr. Stark, any idiot could see he needed medical attention. If he could make his own way to Mr. Stark instead of needing to be picked up… that would be just a  _bit_  less embarrassing.

“I’ve got 20 minutes you say? Where’s Mr. Stark right now?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y reports that he is currently working in his lab at Stark Tower.”

“And how quick could I get to the tower from here?”

“In your current state, I estimate 14 minutes. However, I do not suggest -”

Peter made up his mind quickly. He couldn’t afford to be a pussy about this. “Karen, show me the quickest route to Stark Tower.” Peter ordered.

Unable to disobey a direct order, Karen reluctantly displayed the route to Peter.

 _Now or never_  Peter thought as he shifted to stand. Wincing in pain, he grabbed the dumpster and used it to drag himself to his feet - then off he went. Peter stumbled from the alley, limping crookedly and occasionally swinging from a web on his good side to speed things up. He stayed exactly on track, powering through the pain and occasionally stopping to add more web to his wound. After what felt like hours, he found himself standing in front of Stark Tower with small black spots starting to form in his vision.

Peter felt stupid coming here. He felt like a little kid running to his parents for help. Or he would, if he had parents. But he didn’t have time to hesitate. 

“He - he’s in the lab, right Karen?” Peter stuttered.

“Correct. Hurry, Peter.” Karen spoke with urgency.

Peter used his clearance card to enter the tower and stumbled into the waiting elevator.

“Good evening, Mr. Parker. Mr. Stark was not expecting you today. How may I assist?” F.R.I.D.A.Y asked, but Peter barely even registered the voice.

“Lab.” he croaked out, leaning heavily on the wall for support. The lurch of the elevator sent a shot of fiery pain from his wound to every nerve in his body. Fucking  _christ_  this hurt.

The elevator doors opened. Peter was greeted with the long, rounded glass wall that surrounds Mr. Stark’s lab. The lights were on at the back. That's where Mr. Stark stood, hunched over a work bench in jeans and a dirty black t-shirt. He was facing away from Peter, who could hear the  _T. REX_  bass line thumping through the sound proof walls. Peter stumbled out of the elevator and towards the lab entrance, clutching his wound and breathing heavily. The black spots were starting to take over his sight. When Peter tried to raise his right hand to gain entrance to the lab the pain from the pull on his wound made him crumple to the ground, groaning in pain with his back slumped against the lab's glass wall. He couldn’t stand up anymore. This sucked.

Peter glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr. Stark still in the same position, fully engrossed in his work and tapping a socked foot to the beat of the music. Peter sighed. He was in deep shit.

“Karen? Could you call Mr. St-”

“Calling Mr. Stark.” Karen interrupted him in a clipped tone, somehow sounding as though she had been waiting to say those words all night.

Peter heard the phone ring once. On the second ring, he saw Mr. Stark snap out of his thoughts, straighten up and fish his phone out of his pocket to look at the caller ID. He gave a small smile which was quickly replaced by a confused frown. Before the third ring could sound, he picked up the phone.

“Hey there, spidey-boy. To what do I owe the pleasure at 1 AM on a school night?”

“Uhh. Hey, Mr. Stark. Sorry to bother you… I - ah,  _fuck_ ” Peter winced against a flare up of pain in his stomach. He was trying to sound normal, but his teeth were clenched tightly against the pain and his voice came out way too high pitched.

Mr. Stark’s voice and posture instantly turned from casual to worried. “What’s wrong Pete? Are you hurt?”

“Well, uh, yeah, you see, the thing is, and I’m so sorry about this... I kinda sorta got stabbed.” Peter blurted out the last part reluctantly. He felt so  _stupid_.

“You got WHAT?”

“Uh.. stabbed? I’m so sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t -”

“Shut it kid. Where are you?” Tony demanded, his hand already reaching out to call for a suit.

“Uh, turn around?” Peter requested quietly. When Mr. Stark swivelled in his direction, Peter looked at the man sheepishly and used the last of his energy to raise a tired peace sign against the glass wall in greeting, leaving a trail of bright red blood. He saw the Mr. Stark's eyes go wide with shock before he hurried towards the lab entrance, phone still pressed to his ear.

“Oh my god, you fucking  _idiot_  -” was the last thing Peter heard before the call dropped and so did his will to be conscious. He trusted that Mr. Stark would take it from here.

\--------------

When Peter awoke, the first thing he registered was that he felt a lot better than the last time he was conscious. There was still a dull pain radiating from where he had been stabbed, but it was nothing compared to the fiery burn of the previous night.

The second thing he noted was the softness of the bed he was in - this was  _definitely_  not his stiff old twin mattress. The plush bedding seemed to hug his entire body, and the sheets were like silk against his skin.

If he wasn’t at home, then…

Suddenly, everything came rushing back from the night before. The unexpected mugger, the treacherous journey to Stark Tower, and worst of all - blacking out outside of Tony Stark’s lab. He cursed under his breath and threw a hand over his face, groaning in embarrassment.

“Morning, kid. Why the long face?”

Peters eyes shot open and he shifted his body towards the voice - big mistake. His wound gave a sting of pain.

“Ow ow ow _owow_  - Mr. Stark!”

Tony Stark was sat in an arm chair beside Peter’s bed. The early morning light highlighted the man sitting casually with his legs crossed, looking at Peter with a mixture of relief, amusement and annoyance. He seemed to have been reading Peter’s Calculus textbook, which was open in his lap and had a sizeable slice through it from when the mugger cut open his bag.  _Shit, I really can’t afford a new one_  Peter thought.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

Peter hummed in agreement, settling back into the bed with a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling, bracing himself for the lecture that he knew was coming.

“I called your aunt. Told her I needed to keep you overnight for an extra special Stark Internship project.”

“Oh  _shit_ … thanks, Mr. Stark. You’re a lifesaver.” He had forgotten about Aunt May until now. She would have been so worried if he wasn’t at home after her shift. How could he forget?

The older man snorted. “Yeah, literally this time. Don’t sweat it. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes, dropping the textbook on the floor and getting to his feet. “I think we need to work on your definition of ‘fine’, bud.”

“Ok, well, physically? I’m pretty much ok. Hardly hurts, I swear. Healing factor, remember?” Peter gestured towards his bandaged wound and gave a thumbs up.

Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow skeptically but said nothing else. There was a moment of silence. That’s when Peter sucked in a breath and launched into his desperate explanation, gesticulating wildly with his left arm as he spoke at lightning speed.

“Look, Mr. Stark, I feel really, really stupid. Like the dumbest. I’m so sorry, I know you’re so busy, but I was just trying to get myself home from Ned’s, and I saw this little guy who I thought was getting beat up, so I tried to help him, but then he was all like ‘ _surprise, bitch!_ ’ and he fucking  _knifed_  me, and he took all my cash, and I tried to stop him but he got away, and I was all alone - and I couldn’t call May because, you know, the whole spider-man thing, also she would flip her shit, so I walked here, even though Karen told me not to, and I’m so sorry, I won’t bother you with something like this  _ever_  aga-  _mmph_ "

The boy stopped talking abruptly - but only because Mr. Stark had pressed his hand fully over Peter’s mouth. He looked up reproachfully at the man who had an amused glint in his eye.

“You done?”

Peter nodded. Mr Stark removed his hand and Peter lay there with his lips still pursed shut, waiting for the lecture he knew he deserved.

Mr. Stark sat down on the bed by Peters head with a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly, leaning his elbows onto his knees.

“Look, Pete. Obviously I’m not mad at you for getting stabbed. Not your fault. It happens to the best of us.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Oh… Well I guess. But really, I’m  _spider-man_ for fuck’s sake, I should’ve fought him off -” Mr. Stark interrupted him firmly.

“What I AM mad about is you limping alone across the city in the middle of the night with a severe stab wound then collapsing outside my lab instead of, I don’t know, calling me?”

Peter cast his eyes away from Mr. Stark.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you” he admitted quietly.

There was a beat of silence.

“Peter.”

He looked up at Mr. Stark and met his eyes. They looked tired but sincere.

“You could  _never_  bother me.”

Peter couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips at those words. He kinda always thought Mr. Stark only kept him around because of his powers and stuff. But in this moment, it felt like he was speaking to Peter Parker.

“Thanks.” Peter whispered, his eyes suspiciously damp.

After a couple moments of comfortable silence, Mr. Stark spoke again in a calmer voice. “Listen, it’s just - you have to be more careful. Take care of yourself better. Don’t rush into fights unless you’re sure. And if you do get hurt - just give me a call and I’ll come help you. Any time of day or night - I’m serious. Everyone needs backup, right?”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“Also,” Mr. Stark continued in a lighter tone “I don’t think my heart could handle you showing up half dead on my doorstep again. You’ve  _seen_  my cardiogram. And Pepper’s gonna be pissed about the blood in the floor boards. So why don’t you do us both a solid and call me next time, yeah?”

Peter snorted. “Alright, Mr. Stark. Sorry. I will. Probably.” The man’s eyes shot towards Peter with anger “-I mean, definitely! For sure. I’ll call. 100% certain. I promise.”

Rolling his eyes, but satisfied that he got his message across, Mr. Stark ruffled Peter’s disheveled hair on the pillow. The boy wrinkled his nose; laying there in Tony’s too-big pyjamas, he looked every year as young as 15.

“Hungry?”

Peter pondered for a moment then shook his head. “Not really. Something about being stabbed in the stomach kinda kills your appetite.”

“Fair.” said Mr. Stark. He bent down to pick up Peter’s textbook from the floor. “Well, I don’t have any meetings until the afternoon, so I might as well keep you company. I’ve been meaning to revisit my anti-derivatives…”

Peter looked surprised. “Oh. Well, it’s Wednesday. I’d love to hang around, Mr. Stark, but I have to get to school. No rest for the teen hero, right?”

Mr. Stark barked out a laugh and looked at the now blushing boy in disbelief. “Oh man, you think you’re going to class? Kid, you were stabbed less than 12 hours ago. Are you out of your mind? You’re not leaving this tower for at least another day.”

“But Mr. Stark, I have stuff to do! I  _cannot_  fall behind right now -”

“Peter, what school project could possibly be more important than you recovering from a knife wound?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly a wound anymore. I heal exponentially faster than normal people. And, for your information, I have this mechanics project that I’m struggling with and I really need to put some hours into -”

“I’m gonna stop you right there and remind you that you’re standing in front of the best mechanical engineer in the country. And probably the world. Use me.” Tony said, smirking with his arms outstretched arrogantly.

Wait - what? Mr. Stark wanted to help  _him_ , Peter Parker, with a stupid high school project? “Are you for real? You would help me with my project?”

“Of course, kid. Besides, I’m struggling with some work of my own right now. I could use an ego boost.”

Peter was grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot. “This is so sweet! This is gonna be so much fun Mr. Stark, I’m gonna learn so much, I will not disappoint you-”

“Alright, kid.” Mr. Stark chuckled. “Get some rest, we’ll work on it later today. Oh, and Happy got you a new backpack since your old one got... _julienned_. They didn’t have your colour so he went for blue. Is that alright?”

Peter smiled softly. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. That’s alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :-)


End file.
